of his hands as they caressed her was more than pleasant. There was a low humming in her blood as he looked at her. She was lying to herself to pretend that it would be a hardship to submit to him. And if they did it quickly, he would still be away before Barton tumbled to his whereabouts.
She reached up and pulled his hand away, ready to lead him to her bed.
And he shook off her touch and pushed her firmly back against the wall.
Dear Lord. Did he mean to take her standing up? The humming was a singing in her at the thought. It would not take very long at all, then. Or so she thought. She had never tried it. It would be something that required more co-ordination, more balance, more stamina than she was used to in a partner. It was not something she had experience in. And was unlikely to be gen—
His lips came down on hers, stopping thought as he took her tongue. His hands grasped her waist and found the strings of her petticoat, undid them and pushed the fabric to the floor, leaving her naked before him.
He stepped away to admire her.
She regained her thought. Gentle. He was not likely to be gentle, but she doubted that he would be so rough as to hurt her. She must need remember to relax, when the moment came, to make it easy for him to enter, and perhaps afterwards she could ask him to lie in her bed and hold her for a few minutes, before he had to go.
Did one ask for such things? She was not sure.
He was staring at her naked body, and she remembered too late that she should be embarrassed. At the very least, she should do something to help him out of his clothing, since the situation was highly unequal. She reached for the buttons of his waistcoat.
He seized her by the wrists and pinned them against the wall, and said, his face close to hers, ‘I said I would take care of everything, your Grace.’
And before she could suggest that under the circumstances he might call her Constance, his mouth was on hers again. She tried to pull her hands free, but he was too strong for her and held her pinned as he took her mouth. His grip on her hands was relaxed but unmovable, and she found she quite liked the feeling of struggling against his hold, the wool of his coat rubbing against her nakedness. And the way her movements seemed to inflame his ki—
He was kissing her mouth with savage ferocity, and she writhed in his grasp, and with a shudder, she gave herself up to him, going weak and pliant in his arms. Only then did his lips move to her throat, and she could feel his tongue licking and his teeth biting at her pulse and making it jump in response. He released her hands and imprisoned her body between his and the wall, stroking down her back to cup her bottom before taking her by the shoulders and steadying himself as he lowered his mouth to her breasts.
She tried to catch her breath, now that her mouth was free, but found it impossible. His mouth was greedy and hard against her and his hands slipped to her waist and squeezed, holding her steady as he su—
Oh, dear Lord. His mouth was on her nipple, pulling hard and his hand slipped between her legs and…
She pressed her back into the wall to keep from collapsing with the shock of it. He was making love to her with his hands, caressing her legs, spreading her sex and slipping those agile fingers in and out of her. She grabbed at her own hair, and it fell in a shower of pins and rose petals, the curls forming a curtain around him as he kissed her breasts. Then she ran her fingers through the waves in his hair, clutching at the back of his neck to hold his mouth to her and urge him on. Her breath was coming faster, sensations piling on top of sensation. And then subsiding as he pulled his mouth away to…
He cupped his hand over her sex and slid to his knees before her, trailing kisses down her belly until he came to her navel, setting up a rhythm with his tongue and his hand, until she was rocking against him and pressing herself down on his hand to push his fingers more deeply into her, clutching his shoulders as though he were the only solid thing in the world.
And he stopped. He lifted his head to look up into her face, dominating her even as he knelt at her feet. And again he smiled, and this time it was in triumph as he thrust into her with one hand, grabbed her hip with the other, and pulled her to his mou…
And she lost herself, her cares, her body, and her mind, and yet the kiss did not end. She begged him to stop and in the same breath begged him for more, and he laughed against her and began it all again until her legs shook under her and she writhed against him as the feelings rolled through her again and again.
‘Your Grace?’
He pulled away from her at last and laid his head against her thigh, idly kissing the soft flesh.
‘Your Grace, is anything the matter?’
She shook her head, trying to understand what she was hearing.
‘Because I heard you cry out.’ Oh, dear, she had forgotten the maid. ‘Your Grace? The door is locked. Do you need assistance?’
She leaned her head back against the wall, wondering if she could stand any more help for the evening without dying of happiness.
When Tony smiled up at her, the lazy, carefree grin was back. He bit her hip, and let his fingertips play over the back of her knees.
‘Your Grace?’ There was a trace of laughter in her maid’s voice. It had been obvious to Susan what she had been doing. And, Constance suspected, quite loud.
‘No, Susan. Do not trouble yourself. I am fine.’ The maid retreated.
‘You are fine. Very fine indeed,’ Tony whispered against her belly. ‘And I must go.’
‘But you haven’t—’
‘But you have. Twice, at least.’ He smiled with pride and rose to take her hands. ‘I told you I would make it all better. I must go and take care of Barton and retrieve your deed and your keys. I suspect he is quite cold and stiff after all this time standing in the street. Whereas I feel most refreshed.’ He let go of her hands and scooped her up in his arms, and she squealed in delight as he carried her to her bed and tossed her under the covers, pulling them over her naked body. ‘You need not fear a visit from him tonight. Now, go to sleep, and if you would…’ he kissed her ‘…dream of me.’
‘Sleep?’ How could he even suggest it?
‘I have work yet to do. It is a shame, isn’t it, that in my chosen profession the work begins when the sun goes down, for it leaves me less time to spend with you.’
‘But you will come again,’ she whispered. ‘Soon. When you can stay with me.’
And he grinned. ‘As your Grace pleases.’
There, he thought with some satisfaction as he climbed out of the window and gained the street. She had left off the notion that he need run for his life. In fact, he was quite sure that she would be most vehemently opposed to his going anywhere without her. And she had forgotten all about sleeping with Barton as well. Although the notion that she would make the ultimate sacrifice for him was flattering, under no circumstances would he allow her to do so.
But it gave him proof enough that he need no longer worry about Constance’s feelings towards him. She might think that marriage was an impossibility. But there were many other things she seemed ready to agree to, and he would soon teach her that the advantages of becoming his wife might outweigh the negatives of birth and career.
